Charlotte messenger. [volume] (Charlotte, Mecklenburg Co., N.C.) 1882-18??, 1887-09-24
A Thrilling Adventure.

wv what was the closest place you WcIe
ever in, in your frontier experienced? was
the conundrum. fred by Chronicle re-
porter at Captain jock Crawford, "The
Poet Scout" The scout ran his fingers
through his long, black hair, reflected
few moments and replied:
"Well, I'll tell you, but you mustn't
give it away in print. II occurred about
a wear ago, when Geronimo was on the
war path with his murderous Apaches. !
was out deer hunting near a range OF
mountains west of my home, and about
noon unsaddIed my horse on a mesa, or
piece of high table land, and after picket
ing the animal out in the grass sat down
to eat some cold lunch from my saddle
pocket. After finishing the lunch CON
cluded to let the horse Craze for awhile
and leisurely strolled out on long arm
of the mesa, the sides of which were
very precipitous-a sort of perpendicular
wall extending for fully 500 feet to the
plain below.
81 stood there gazing from the giddy
height for several minutes, and then
looked up. Imagine the uneasy feeling
which crept along my spine when ] saw
row of at least thirty painted savages
between me and my horse. There was,
utterly unable to defend myself, my rifle
and pistols back with my saddle, great
precipice on three sides of me, and
that band of Indians in front. To jump
over the cliff would be certain death; to
rush upon the Indians unarmed and
single-handcd as certain in result, and if
l remained where / stood it would be
only 4 matter of a few moments before
they would advance and kill me.
Il never was worse scared in my life.
My blood seemed to freeze in my veins,
and my long hair stood up like ships
masts. To me it seemed there was absO-
lutely no escape from sure and terrible
death. l observed that the Indians were
holding a discussion among themselves,
and soon saw them drawing lots. l at
once OWNED their purpose. They had
discovered that l was entirely unarmed,
and were drawing lots to see which one
should advance and despatch me with a
knife. The lot fell to stalwart war
rior with hideously painted face, and
with long knife in his hand he adj
vanced toward me.
eff ever a man made good time in
reeling off a prayer did it just then.
think | must have beaten the record by
several points. thought knew that l
must die, but just when l was about to
give up in despair cold calmness came
over me, and / resolved that the fiend
should not murder me without strug-
| gle. When he got near me | sprang
upon him with the ferocity of tiger.
and we were soon engaged in des-
! peratc hand-to-han6 struggle. The saw
] age band stood quietly enjoying the
/ sport, for they knew had no weapon.
During the struggle ! observed to my
horror that we were nearing the edge of
J the cliff, and almost before | could real
ize it the savage grasped me by my long
/ hair, bent me backward, and over we
went, down, down to certain death on
the rocks below"
"And you fell on top of the Indian,
and escaped2"
"No; the Indian fell on top of me,
with fingers still locked in my hair, and
over and over we rolled, clear across the
room"
"The room2"
eyes, the bedroom. You see, it was
an ugly dream, and in my desperation l
grabbed my wife, and she retaliated by
entwining her fingers in my hair. In our
desperate struggle we rolled out of bed,
and after we awoke my wife held on
with her deathlike grip until had ex-
planned. Then we both laughed until
the echoes stirred up the whole Rio
Grande valley, forgave each other, and
went back to bed That was the most
desperate fight in which I ever took a
hand, but | have been in far more dan
gerous ones. ST. Louis Chronicle.